DANGEROUS GROUND
"Miss----," began a man with a ruddy face and heavy gray hair, as he
stood in front of Tavia, almost an hour later, while a small boy relieved
him of his great fur coat and cane. "I don't believe I have your name.
I'm Mr. Akerson."
"I'm Octavia Travers," answered Tavia, looking straight into the brown
eyes of Mr. Akerson.
"Oh, yes, you are the lady who 'phoned me? Want to see me about something
very important; don't you?" he asked, looking at Tavia's fresh young face
with open admiration. Instinctively Tavia did not like Mr. Akerson. His
brown eyes were large and bold, and his manners too free and easy. As she
gazed straight at him she wondered how she, alone, could deal with such a
man. But she followed him, nevertheless, into an office marked
"_Private_" and the door closed behind them.
"Wonderful weather; is it not?" he asked, pleasantly. "Such bracing air
as this makes us old fellows young," he rubbed his large hands together
as he talked. "I suppose you've been skating in the Park, and enjoying
the Winter pleasures, as girls do!"
"No, indeed," answered Tavia sedately, "we haven't been skating yet, but
we're going to the Park to-morrow." Then she could have bitten off her
tongue for saying anything so foolish--for telling this stranger anything
about her engagements.
The man did not seem in a hurry to find out her business. She drew
herself up and raising her chin, which was always a sign that Tavia was
becoming determined, she said:
"I wish to inquire about one of your apartments."
"I understood you to say that it was special business with me," he
laughed, and looked keenly at Tavia. "You could have asked any of the
clerks about that."
"I thought that I would have to see you personally, of course."
"Oh, no, that was not necessary. My clerks are conversant with the
renting of all our places."
Tavia was puzzled. She would not talk to the clerks, she wanted to find
out from Mr. Akerson himself. She smiled sweetly.
"I was told," she said, "that in regard to this particular apartment, the
Court Apartments, that I could only rent from you."
The man glanced up quickly, and closing his eyes shrewdly, asked Tavia,
lowering his voice:
"Who sent you to me?"
"A friend of mine lives there and she mentioned your name as being
renting agent, and not the company you represent."
Mr. Akerson sat back, evidently very much relieved. He toyed with a
letter opener.
"No," he said slowly, "the Court Apartments do not belong to the company,
and the clerks could not have given you the information about renting. We
do not carry that place on the lists."
For one wild moment Tavia wanted to laugh. This shrewd man, of whom she
had felt so much in awe, was calmly telling her just what she wanted to
know!
"I wish," said Tavia, "to see about renting an apartment there."
"An apartment just for yourself?" he asked, and he looked so queerly at
Tavia that she hesitated.
"No," hastily corrected Tavia, "that is, not alone. I expect to
have--someone with me." Which, as Tavia said to herself, was perfectly
true, though she hesitated over it.
"Lucky young chap!" murmured the man, and Tavia flushed hotly.
"The rent, please," demanded Tavia, trying to show the man how much he
displeased her.
"What can you afford to pay?" he asked. "The rents differ. But, I have no
doubt, I could give you an apartment on very reasonable terms."
"I couldn't afford to pay over fifty dollars per month," answered Tavia
smoothly, which was the price at which the apartments were supposed to be
rented.
"I'm willing to shave off a bit," said Mr. Akerson, very generously.
"Some of my tenants there are paying one hundred dollars for the same
rooms that I'll let you have for eighty dollars per month."
"Eighty dollars!" exclaimed Tavia, "I understood that the rents were only
forty and fifty dollars!"
"My dear young lady," said the man soothingly, "in that section! And such
beautifully arranged rooms! I ask eighty and one hundred dollars for
those apartments, and I get it. But, as I said, if there are any
particular rooms that you fancy," the man smiled familiarly at Tavia,
"maybe I could come to terms with you."
"I'm sure I am right about the rents being forty and fifty dollars,"
Tavia insisted.
"Oh, they were that a long time ago; in fact, the last time the apartment
changed hands they could be rented for thirty-five dollars. But I built
the place up, improved it, made it worth the price, and I can get that
amount. Only, if you've set your little heart----"
Tavia jumped up. The man had leaned so far over toward her, that she
resented the familiarity implied. She drew herself up to her full height
and said coldly:
"I do not care to pay more than the regular renting price for the Court
Apartments. If you will lease an apartment at fifty dollars, you shall
hear from me again."
"Done!" said the man, "but I can't promise that the rent will go on
indefinitely at that figure. You can have it at that rental for three
months, but understand, the woman across the hall from you and the family
above, are paying one hundred dollars per month."
"I'm sure you're very kind," said Tavia, arranging her fur neck piece,
and pulling on her gloves, "I appreciate it very much."
"Don't mention it," said Mr. Akerson, grandly expanding his broad chest,
"I always aim to give a lady whatever she wants," and he came nearer to
Tavia.
With cool dignity she backed slowly to the door, ignoring Mr. Akerson's
outstretched hand.
A quick flush mounted the man's brow, and he bowed Tavia out of his
private office.
Once again in the open, she breathed freely.
"What a perfectly horrid man," she murmured. "To think that Mrs. White
receives but thirty-five dollars from each apartment and he actually gets
eighty and one hundred dollars! Poor Miss Mingle! It must take every
penny she earns just to pay the rent! And it takes all Aunt Winnie
receives to pay the expenses and taxes of the place! And with the
difference Mr. Akerson buys fur coats and things." Tavia's indignation
knew no bounds.
On the trip home she thought quickly and clearly.
Arriving there, she was met by an excited family.
"Wherever have you been?" cried Dorothy.
"My dear," gasped Aunt Winnie, "you've given us an awful fright!"
"I was just down to start out on a trip through the hospitals and police
stations," said Ned.
"And I've now spoiled the beautiful trip," said Tavia, with a laugh.
"It's just delightful to stay away long enough to be missed."
"Yes, I know it is," said Dorothy. "But where have you been?"
"Out," was Tavia's laconic answer.
"Really!" said Ned, with broad sarcasm.
Aunt Winnie smiled. "Don't tell them your secret, Tavia; they only want
to find out so that they can tease you about it."
"Anyone who insists on hearing my secret," said Tavia, striking a tragic
pose, "does so at his peril!"
Ned decided that it was worth the risk, and rushed at Tavia to wrench the
secret bare, but she eluded him skillfully, leaping directly over a
couch. Ned was close at her heels, and out into the hall she ran,
shutting the door after her, keeping Ned on the other side. In a moment
it was opened. Desperate, Tavia sprang to the entrance into the main
hall, and Ned followed so closely that they reached the divan in the hall
at the same moment, Tavia sinking exhausted into its depths. She had won,
because Ned could do nothing now except stand gallantly by--he could not
smother Tavia in pillows in the public hall, and still maintain his
dignity--so Tavia's secret remained her own.
Dorothy appeared in the doorway.
"Such perfectly foolish young people!" she scolded. "Come inside this
instant! It's a good thing that father will arrive to-night, to balance
this frivolous family!"
Tavia sat up astonished. "Major Dale coming to-night? I'm so glad. And
Nat and Joe and Roger! Won't that be fine for the skating party?"
Dorothy, too, sank into the comfortable divan.
"Father's rheumatism is all well again, and they will arrive in time for
dinner to-night," she said. "The telegram came directly after breakfast."
"Dorothy told me about your visit to Miss Mingle in the apartment house,"
said Ned, suddenly becoming serious. But Tavia did not want to discuss
apartment houses just then, and she jumped lightly to her feet, just as
Aunt Winnie opened the door.
"There's someone on the 'phone asking for Miss Travers!" she said.
Certainly mysterious things were happening to Tavia that day, thought
Dorothy, as she and Ned stood, frankly curious, while Tavia clung to the
receiver.
"Hello!" she said, in a trembling voice.
"Yes, this is Miss Travers!"
"No, I do not know your voice."
"Really, I never heard your voice before!"
"Yes, this is Mrs. White's apartment."
"I'm from Dalton, yes, and my name is Travers, but I don't know you."
"Ned? He's here. You want to speak to him?"
She stepped from the telephone and handed the receiver to Ned: "It's a
man's voice and he kept laughing, but I'm sure I never met him, and he
finally asked for you," she explained.
"How are you, old chum?" sang out Ned, heartily. "Yes, certainly, come
right upstairs. Get off at the third floor. The girls will be wild with
joy!"
"Who is it?" demanded Dorothy and Tavia, in one voice.
"He'll be in the room in a minute," answered Ned, mysteriously.